


dialogue between the wind and the sea

by malfaisant



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Drabbles, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 02:38:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5030461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malfaisant/pseuds/malfaisant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of Temeraire drabbles from prompts on tumblr, mostly Laurence/Tharkay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be tossing any Temeraire drabbles I write here every now and then; comments most definitely welcome.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **kiransingh** asked: "laurence/tharkay laurence has nightmares about losing his memory again"

It was merely the simple fact that he’d never had to consider such a vulnerability before, that he could as easily lose such a significant part of himself by such mundane means. It was an unfamilliar terror, and one that woke him on some nights in cold sweat, his heart in his throat, and on those nights, Tharkay would stir next to him with near inaudible whispers, but unbearably loud in the dark.

“I’m still here,” Tharkay would murmur against his mouth, against his throat, against the jut of his collarbone, so as to impress the physical memory of him onto Laurence’s skin, memory like a brand, deep enough to occupy the space within the hollow of his bones.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **vespasiana** asked: "TEMERAIRE: LAURENCE BURIED AT SEA"

Tharkay had once told him that the ocean and the desert were two sides of the same coin—for every drop of water was a corresponding grain of sand, and each of them as plentiful as the stars in the sky. The human lifespan was a mere blink, but even dragons did not live forever, he continued; loss, no matter how deeply it ran, was finite.

He would live, for some decades more, but Temeraire was born at sea, and it was at sea that he knew a part of him had died.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **captainshellhead** asked: "laurencetharkay, first time one of them said 'I love you'"

The first language he spoke was Nepali, but his mother began to teach him English at nearly the same time as when he first started to speak. No one else in his mother’s family spoke a word of it, so it was more a secret code for the two of them than anything else, to share a stealthy joke about one of his uncles or the village elders, and he soon came to associate the language with his mother’s laughter.

(However, not long after that, he also soon discovered that English was not only one language but many, dozens of languages that shared the same grammar and vocabulary, but all varied simply according to the manner in which the words were said, and by whom.)

His tutors taught him French and he learned it quickly, because he was told it is a civilised language, and then Latin, which later became particularly useful when dealing with lawyers, though not useful enough.

He learned Persian from the caravan he travelled with the first time he crossed the Taklamakan. He picked up Turkish in the marketplaces of Istanbul, haggling with sellers on the price of dates and cured meats. An old feral dragon who lived in the eastern Pamirs taught him Durzagh through the cobbled bits of Mandarin she still remembered, when a perilous mountain crossing stranded him in her valley for several months, and she was lonely for company.

There was something in the act of saying certain truths aloud that made them feel more real, more tangible, and harder to ignore. That in giving voice to them, they took with it a piece of himself that he could not recover, something invaluable—so Tharkay cheated. Tharkay knew more than a dozen languages, and has told Laurence he loved him in nearly all of them, but only nearly.

He said them first in the languages he knew Temeraire didn’t understand, in case the dragon was within earshot without his knowing.

Then, feeling more daring, he tried next in the languages Temeraire did know, to feel how the words sat in his mouth, though he makes sure the dragon wasn’t around when he whispered them to no one.

Then, eventually, there were left the languages Laurence barely knew, starting with Chinese, then French, and in a volume audible only to himself.

He didn’t know when he would ever say them in English.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **annicron** : "come up with a plausible context for [that pushups drawing](http://annicron.tumblr.com/post/129604655455/when-u-boyfriend-buff-af-and-u-smug-abt-it-reffed)"

It all started with the dragons having a friendly discussion about physics and anatomy on one hot, humid afternoon, on the subject of how the strength of dragons compared to humans when translated down to their scale. After some debate on the relevance of the cube-square law or bone densities, they all eventually came to agree on the rather lacklustre conclusion that the ratio was more or less one-to-one, and usually rather depended on the dragon, or the human—but this almost immediately turned to a more spirited disagreement on the physical strengths of their respective captains. This, in turn, and to Laurence’s mind somehow inevitably, transformed into the dragons urging their crews and captains into a formation-wide contest on who can perform the most press-ups. The youngest and the rowdiest of their crew fell into it most wholeheartedly, so at least, Laurence thought, it was good for morale.

Laurence would’ve been grateful to have it end there, if Perscitia was not overheard musing out loud whether humans can perform press-ups while bearing their own weight, like how dragons could fly under a similar burden, to which Caesar loudly boasted that his captain most certainly can, if he were not too dignified to participate in their ridiculous contest…to which Temeraire indignantly retorted that of course Laurence could, and would do so. Having no captain of her own to harangue for her science experiment, Perscitia turned to Temeraire, who then turned to Laurence, who turned to Tharkay, who shrugged.

“Lock your posture,” said Tharkay as he put a hand on Laurence’s shoulder and set about climbing on top of him, while Laurence tried his utmost not to turn a deeper shade of red. “The sooner you do ten press-ups, the sooner their curiosity will be assuaged, and the sooner we can make our escape with what’s left of your dignity.”


End file.
